


I Put A Spell On You

by QuickSilverFox3



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Curses, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Magical Accidents, Minor Goodnight Robicheaux & Billy Rocks, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: The sun had barely risen when Goodnight slipped out of the house, eyes red-rimmed from another night with no sleep, hands trembling as he shoved them into his pockets.-Goodnight and Sam are cursed, but they still find a way to make it work.
Relationships: Sam Chisolm/Goodnight Robicheaux
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	I Put A Spell On You

**Author's Note:**

> Goodnight Robicheaux/Sam Chisolm - 99. Magical Accidents/98. Curses for anon on tumblr ^^

The sun had barely risen when Goodnight slipped out of the house, eyes red-rimmed from another night with no sleep, hands trembling as he shoved them into his pockets.

His feet knew the way, traveling along the worn paving stones, even as his thoughts twisted and fell over each other. The city grew and swelled around him as he continued walking, weeds pressing up through the cracks before they fell away in the face of the carefully runed stones. Magic crackled in the air over his head as the lampposts flickered out, and Goodnight flinched with every pop that echoed like a gunshot. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as his entire body shook with the urge to run.

By the time he reached the small shop — the windows packed with carefully labelled jars, the surface gleaming like a mirror and Goodnight averted his eyes from his haggard reflection — Goodnight felt like he was about to fall apart, wound too tight for any other thoughts to pierce his mind.

The shop emanated calm, but it was a hard won calm, the sort of calm that was built and reinforced after countless battles. The bell rang as he slipped inside, a single chime that echoed through the impossibly high rafters, and Goodnight pressed the door closed behind him, eyes closing as he fumbled with the latch. 

In the early days, when his burns had healed after the accident and he could breathe without blood coating his tongue, Goodnight would need a blindfold to enter the shop. The urge to look — fuelled as it was by worry and concern, and a love that threatened to burn him from the inside out — would overwhelm him.

“Morning, Goodnight.” 

Sam could move as silently as a ghost when the fancy took him. The memory of his movements — studied by a younger Goodnight whose mouth had ran dry, shifting to watch him better as he was incapable of anything else — was still as clear as day even as the occasion was lost to him. Nowadays, he moved deliberately, heavy boots knocking against the floorboards like a heartbeat. 

Sam’s hands were warm, one cupping Goodnight’s jaw and rasping against the scruffy growth of his beard as the other caught hold of one of his belt loops, pulling him closer. It had taken some practice, practice that they both had thrown themselves into after so long apart, but Goodnight knew now when to tip his head, Sam’s mouth meeting his, his teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Goodnight pressed himself closer, a helpless groan tumbling out of his throat, and Sam chuckled, grinning against Goodnight’s lips.

“Bad night?”

Instead of answering, Goodnight pressed his hand to Sam’s, holding it in place, while he turned his head to kiss his palm. He traced the line of calluses to his fingertips, mapping them from memory.

Goodnight knew Sam in snapshots of fragmented memory, from accidental glances before the other man vanished into nothingness.

He knew the sensation of running his hands along Sam’s hair — close cropped to his skull and tightly curled — seeking something to hold onto as he fell apart, but he couldn’t say the exact pattern of grey that had wound its way through the black. He knew the press of Sam’s hands, their warmth in his own, but he didn’t know the shade of the other’s scars that spanned his knuckles. 

But he couldn’t picture the exact shade of his eyes, or the way he smiled while he knew the shape of it.

“Much better now, mon cher,” Goodnight said, trying for a smile but knowing he missed his mark from Sam’s scoff. 

“You never could lie to me, Goodnight.” Another kiss was pressed to the corner of Goodnight’s mouth, Sam moving back as Goodnight tried to chase it. “Might as well make yourself useful.” 

Goodnight followed where Sam led, shadows condensing around them as the shelves grew higher, but his breathing remained steady, the ever present grip of worry in his chest starting to lessen. 

“Anything new?” Goodnight asked, tracing his free hand across the smooth countertop, transitioning to his usual chair easily, sitting down and Sam squeezed his hand before letting him go. 

The scent of herbs lingered on the air, growing stronger as Goodnight heard Sam pick the knife back up, metal gently tapping against the wood as he thought. “Some loose threads here and there. Billy is allegedly having a great time, from what I’ve heard.”

Goodnight chuckled. Billy was a marvel with those clever knives of his, running rampant and free through the underbelly of the city, even if that occasionally came with needing to bail Faraday out of jail every so often.

“His current working theory is some of the ingredients were contaminated and that’s why the potion blew up and—” A pause and a sigh. Goodnight frowned as he tried to picture Sam’s face in that moment and came up empty. He could picture the other man in snapshots, but they were faded at the edges or Goodnight could picture Sam as a young man, rather than his current appearance. 

“It’s okay.” Goodnight reached forward carefully, fingers brushing against the rough denim of Sam’s jeans before the other man caught his hand.

“We both survived.”

Sam sighed, his breath sweet with mint, and he pressed his forehead to Goodnight’s.

“You should be with someone you can look at” Sam murmured, “Someone who won’t disappear for a day if you accidentally glance at them.”

“No.” Goodnight lightly shook his head, his nose bumping into Sam’s. “I love you. I chose you and I will keep choosing you every single day.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic.” Sam kissed him again, before drawing back to his task and Goodnight lit up a cigarette, keeping his eyes closed and just listened to the man he loved work. 

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!  
> [Trope mash up list!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com/post/615200731645050880/fanfiction-trope-mash-up)  
> 


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